


(un)impressed

by LadySpearWife



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Character Study, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roughness, Set post Sochi 2019, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySpearWife/pseuds/LadySpearWife
Summary: What Lewis wants is a show you're not willing to put on.





	(un)impressed

Your body jerks with Lewis’ momentum as he thrusts into you, all roughness and desire and excitement after a victory. You feel nothing of this, and that’s why you keep your eyes open, focused on the ceiling and far beyond his looming form just above.

This isn’t enough for five-times world champion Lewis Hamilton, of course.

He bites down on your neck hard, too high for you to hide it tomorrow. His hands grip your hips to leave perfect impressions of his fingers behind. He grunts out little, meaningless obscenities in your ear like _you’re so tight, babe _and _moan for me _so you can’t really forget what’s happening or who’s there. It’s all a show for himself, you know. But it’s hard to not resent him, if only for the fact you have an early flight the next morning.

You don’t know what else Lewis wants from you besides an easy fuck. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let you have a moment of peace. You said yes through the bitter, ringing disappointment of whatever this race was, and he still comes all over your thighs – messy, possessive, arrogant; exactly like him – so you’ll have work to clean yourself after this, have your particular walk of shame when he’s dead sleep somewhere.

Your head goes in circles through the circuit, stuck at the straights and sector three and how you just weren’t fast enough to even catch Bottas. Somewhere distant from your body, you’re vaguely aware of Lewis tugging at your cock with a rough, dry hand, setting a harsh, quick pace that screams _focus on me _like nothing else does. And he kisses you just as hard, all tenth and tongue. Why would he want to be acknowledged this much, anyway? Everyone notices him as it’s, he doesn’t need _you_ to do it.

Is this how an out of body experience feels, then?

Lewis is mouthing your chest. You wish you didn’t have to play for strategy just because the fallout of that decision would be even worse than this P3. Lewis’ hand is going quicker, tighter, harder. Was it revenge from Sebastian’s part? Lewis is groaning far too loud. You couldn’t touch them in that last sector. You’re coming all over Lewis and yourself. _God_, you should’ve shut up in the radios and screamed bloody hell later.

“What the fuck’s in your head, man?”

“Nothing.” _Suzuka_.

**Author's Note:**

> at it again with short charles and lewis because goddamnit ferrari what did you do in this race for fuck's sakes


End file.
